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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906503">MOON GLADE</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_ATIN/pseuds/R_ATIN'>R_ATIN</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SB19 (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - 1980s, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt No Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Regret, Sad Ending, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhappy Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_ATIN/pseuds/R_ATIN</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 1980s, Lester and Paulo are childhood friends and they’ve always had something special, unspoken. One night, Lester runs away without a word. Eight years after, he finally comes back for Paulo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stellvester "Stell" Ajero &amp; John Paulo Nase | Sejun, Stellvester "Stell" Ajero/John Paulo Nase | Sejun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>MOON GLADE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's actually one of my Twitter AUs but I felt like it had to be here as well.<br/>Here's the link to my AU thread btw:<br/>https://twitter.com/LeFabGeek/status/1311923291020386304</p>
<p>*Commissioned fic. Yes, I'm now open to commissions. Thanks for trusting my works!*</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Ah, finally,”</em> I muttered to myself beneath my exhausted breath as I swiftly, yet carefully, sank into my assigned sleeper cabin, hoisting my heavy luggage onto the foot-side of the slender mattress covered in a crisp, white linen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hummed in content when the cushion naturally caved into the weight of my luggage and I thought, perfect. The cushion was soft, and the cabin itself looked clean, smelled of freshly-washed sheets despite the ripened age of this train. The cabin was small, not too small though; just ideal for double-occupancy passengers. Another bed was elevated overhead. It was a bit low, so I must remember to be cautious lest I bump my head. It was a good thing no other passenger purchased for the same room; I can greedily indulge in the service. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Overall, it was a whole lot better than what I had bargained for, which is good, since convenience and comfort would be pretty much appreciated for a 14-hour train ride. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I locked the glass enclosure and drew the curtains to a close, flicking the main light’s switch off but leaving the tiny pin lights on, strategically strewn in the four corners of the cabin. Cozy enough. I guessed I could get some nice sleep after all. I wriggled my shoes off of my feet and pushed my favorite pair of leathers under the mattress using the tips of my toes. I left my socks on, just in case my trusty sweater failed to keep me warm. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I squirmed onto the center of the cushion, finding my best spot. And when I did, I flicked on the play button on my Walkman and propped the headphones on. Soft rock music from my favorite band <em>Michael Learns to Rock</em> filled my senses, my feet tapping against the other as the beat went on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fourteen hours of land travel and I would soon set foot once again onto my humble hometown in the South. Apart from the delight and the thrill I nurtured, somehow wondering what was in store for my three-day trip, there’s anxiety pooling into the pits of my stomach as well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>You see, the way I bade my hometown goodbye was rather, distasteful. At least that was how it would appear in the eyes of many, because I ran away. I ran away from the townsfolk. I ran away from our little hut. I ran away from my childhood. I ran away from Paulo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paulo Nase; my first love, my only love. And it had been eight years ago. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We met when I was twelve, and he was thirteen. We lived in a small town in a little province in the southern regions of the country. Life there had been simple and you could say, classic, through the most part of my adolescent years. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I lived with my father, a steadfast and faithful grounds-cleaner in the nearby private High School that I attended. I was fortunately granted a scholarship by the school, thanks to his 15-year flawless employment record. But of course, I resolved to keep my grades nothing less than stellar to prove my worth of the scholarship grant. In fact, I was looking forward to graduating at the top of my class. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>While I could have sworn that I had been the most active student in my academics, I was also the most timid; primarily because of my social status. I was but a lonesome kid of the school’s janitor, attending a prestigious private school where children of the most well-known moguls and public officials flock towards. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I normally spend lunch eating on my own, sitting idly at the farthest corner of the cafeteria in order to escape the prying eyes of some well-to-do kids. On some days, I succeeded in hiding. But on most days, I didn’t. I had experienced some verbal mockery, some unwarranted shoving into the lockers, along the hallways, at the comfort rooms. Nothing yet that I couldn’t manage to survive. But of course, I’d greatly appreciate it if I could finish my studies in peace. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There wasn’t anything I could’ve done. Most of the bullies in school were sons and daughters of the esteemed families in town. And had I stood up to them, or said anything they could’ve found offensive would’ve cost my father’s job, and therefore, my scholarship. Hence, I had to put up with them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was assigned as one of the room cleaners on one particular day, and was busy wiping the chalkboard after class when one of my male classmates, who I recognized as the kid of the owner of the largest grocery store in town, came up to me and casually showered me with chalk dust. It wasn’t much, just enough amount to annoy the shit out of me, and for the record, it did. But at times like these, I’d known better than to fight back so I pretended to laugh it off and easily brushed the dust off of my hair and uniform. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seemed the bully didn’t take my indifference well and while I had expected it somehow, he did push me with a bit of force that caused me to lose my balance and trip off the platform, landing on my buttocks. I was used to this, so I just convinced myself that I was just THAT clumsy. I was about to stand up when a hand hovered in front of my face and when I gazed up to find out who it was, it was John Paulo Nase, our Class President. He grabbed my hand when I stared at him a little too long and he lifted me to my feet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“You, De Dios, better scram before I let our adviser know about this.”</em> I heard John Paulo Nase tell the bully off and the chinky-eyed kid smirked before marching out of the room. Nase turned to me again and brushed the remaining chalk dust from my hair. Maybe it was something that happened to me for the first time that I only got to stare at him in disbelief and confusion, tilting my head to the side unwittingly, which made him chuckle. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Uhm, thank you? I guess.” </em>I stammered for some reason, looking all but stupid and my eyes couldn’t seem to meet his out of embarrassment so I just pretended to sweep something off of my school shorts even if there was nothing there. I heard him let out another chuckle before offering me a ride back home, which I politely declined. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Why not? You sure you’re okay?”</em> he asked with a cock of an eyebrow and I was genuinely curious how can this person be so nice all of a sudden when we never even talked before. Not even when we had spent probably two or three years in the same class back in elementary. John Paulo Nase was the only son of one of our town’s councilors and came from an affluent family. He was also smart and active in extracurriculars and I thought he was quite a cool kid.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I’m fine. I’m going home with my Tatang, but thank you for the offer, and for fending that De Dios kid off.”</em> I replied sincerely, which he rewarded with an equally genuine smile. I must have blushed, feeling the heat lingering a little too long in my cheeks. Not only was he cool, he looked extremely cute as well with one dimpled cheek. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Ah yes, Mang Jun. Say what, I can perhaps drop the both of you home. You live just a few blocks from here, or am I wrong, Stellvester?”</em> he insisted, and it made me fiddle all the more, somehow feeling a tinge of hope that I, for the first time, was gaining a new friend. Was that even possible? </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“You’ll do that? Let me tell my Tatang! You know he’s always tired from sweeping at the court. A short ride would be nice!” </em>I said excitedly and John Paulo Nase’s face brightened up that he looked even more thrilled than I was. He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the classroom and it even seemed he knew well where my Tatang spent his rest times because he towed me to where he exactly was.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gave us a ride home and I and my Tatang marveled at how the car’s roofing opened up and let the fresh breeze in. I wasn’t certain but John Paulo Nase must have thought we looked ridiculous because he laughed at our antics but we couldn’t really care. It was me and my Tatang’s first time setting foot inside a car, and not just any car, but the car of the privileged which must have cost a lot of money. John Paulo Nase even had his own uniformed chauffeur, who seemed to be really kind as well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a short ride and they dropped us off at our little hut situated near the vast fields of corn. I thanked John Paulo Nase plenty of times while my Tatang bowed profusely on my side, holding his straw hat against his chest and my new friend waved back at us eagerly as their car sped off, disappearing into the curve. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That became the first out of many days that John Paulo Nase dropped us off at our humble hut. Sometimes, he would even pick me up so we could go to school together. Just me, since my Tatang had to be in school a lot earlier. Most of the familiar spoiled brats that bullied me since the start of the school year no longer came by since John Paulo Nase would always come to my defense even before they could step close to my shadow.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I no longer had to sit alone at the far end of the cafeteria during lunch breaks as well, as he would always insist to have our meals together. He would bring his <em>baon </em>along that always looked too much for his small frame but then he would nonchalantly give half of his packed lunch to me.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“That bad table on the corner? Don’t sit there anymore. It’s close to the garbage bin, why do you always choose that spot?”</em> he asked me one time when I was about to go my usual way and he ran after me and dragged me to a more convenient site. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I shrugged as though it was already too obvious to even deserve an explanation. <em>“It’s the only table far from those rascals. It’s not like I had a choice.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Well, I am your friend now, and I don’t like you sitting there alone. You stay with me from now on. The good tables are in this area, see? Look here, I packed some Kare-Kare for you. Eat all of this. You’re basically skin and bones.”</em> he said continuously as he scooped a generous amount of Kare-Kare into an extra container and pushed it towards my plate. I smiled at him bashfully and he winked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I wasn’t the only one that appreciated his kind gestures, but my Tatang as well. So, he’d make sure to cook a dish enough for John Paulo Nase and me the night before. And my new best friend had always loved his cooking as much as I did. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Few more months rolled by, which quickly transcended to a few years and we became inseparable. He became Paulo to me, and I became Lester to him.  Spending time with each other was no longer confined within the walls of the school nor picking me up or dropping us at home. I was sixteen and he was seventeen, when he thought that having a Chauferred car waiting for him at school felt somewhat embarrassing and “un-cool”.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“How can you say that having a car is un-cool? Everyone’s practically drooling over your wheels. Give me your car if you hate it that much.”</em> I teased and he smirked, playfully elbowing me on my waist. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Those kids aren’t jealous; they must be thinking what a spoiled brat I am. Besides, I’m seventeen now. Just one more year and I’m already an adult. I can be independent too, you know? Now shut up and let’s grab some squid balls. I’m starving.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After classes, we would stroll outside. Oftentimes indulging in some street snacks, otherwise, we would rent a bike at a nearby stall and ride all afternoon until the sun dipped in the horizon and the alleys ran out of people. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would insist from his father, already our town’s Mayor then, that he wished to learn how to commute on his way home but he was never allowed, hence after hours and hours of wandering together aimlessly, there would always be his chauffeur waiting at our beck and call. It wasn’t a bad idea at all. Especially that his father, the Mayor, was very gentle and never once treated me, a poor kid from the cornfields, like a non-equal.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon enough, Paulo and I found ourselves a safe haven. There was this huge, old tree down the river near the town’s esplanade, whose leaves were emerald green in the summer and tiny amber flowers bloom in the hot season. It was never crowded there for some reason though we couldn’t find it in ourselves to complain. Not when it felt quite surreal how we always seemed to have the entire place to our own; a tree that offered an ample amount of shade, a calm, teal blue river, and a lush mantle of grass over a soft, damp earth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“For once, I’m glad that people are dumb enough to overlook this place,”</em> I mumbled with eyes closed, my head resting over my crossed arms like a makeshift pillow.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The air still smelled pristine, somewhat fragrant even. And while the sun was still out, we remained unbothered by the heat under the cool shade. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that Paulo had stretched out and sprawled across the lawn beside me; the skin of his elbow gently brushing against mine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Mhmm.”</em> I heard him murmur and nothing else followed after that.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I opened my eyes and shifted to the side so I was facing him. It was funny how he quickly fell into a nap. I poked the tip of his nose and his face scrunched yet he remained asleep. The orange glow from the sun was slowly catching on his face and I was taken aback by how strangely disarming he looked under the light. I felt an odd feeling of warmth slithering across my cheeks and something told me that I had to look away that instant. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Needless to say, things became a habit. We would always laze under our tree all afternoon, reading our textbooks, sharing meals and pearl-cold drinks, or just exchange stories and whatnots as though we hadn’t seen each other for days. Sometimes, Paulo would bring his acoustic guitar along and strum randomly until he came up with a melody. There were times he would sing, his voice that was quite throaty for his age, would melt along into the breeze and seemed to nuzzle my skin like the faint touch of silk. It would feel like he was singing for me, like we were the only ones that existed and nobody else meant anything to anyone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One afternoon when the daylight was a little shorter than most days and dusk came in rather quickly, Paulo was singing again, without his guitar this time. But he was making good music purely by his voice and the tender tapping of his hands against his legs. It still sounded melodious to me, so I thought it best to carefully lay my head down his lap. I felt how he slightly flinched but made no effort to refuse. Few seconds after, he was singing and tapping again and everything fell naturally as they should be.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I looked up to his face and witnessed how the white crescent moon emerged in the pool of his eyes, and he looked ethereal. We stayed that way for another half an hour until he groaned of his benumbed legs so I quickly rose and rubbed his limbs to soothe the sting. I was not thinking about anything, not until his hand found mine and he rested it on top, his thumb creating small, delicate circles around my skin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I couldn’t tell what he was thinking when I met his gaze, but I knew I didn’t have it in me to hold back. I liked Paulo since I was twelve. I liked him since he defended me from the bullies, and shared his meals with me, and every time he smiled and bade me goodbye after dropping us off at home. I liked Paulo a lot.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>My hand swiftly reached the back of his waist and I yanked him closer, experimenting whether he would look away or slap me but neither of those happened. There was only a faint movement that drew the both of us closer, inch by inch, until our lips met and pressed in a soft, chaste kiss. We slightly parted our lips to welcome the other and he tasted sweet, probably even sweeter than the songs he sang to me at sundown. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked at me after we broke apart, the tip of his tongue darting out a little, licking his bottom lip, making me wonder if he thought I tasted sweet as well. But he said nothing. We sat there quietly with foreheads touching, but neither of us spoke for a while and it was starting to feel uncomfortable. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Hey, don’t let this feel awkward. Especially not starting tomorrow.” </em>I said and whether the panic in my voice was evident, I no longer cared because truth be told, my nerves were all tied up in knots. He let out a breathy chuckle. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Okay.”</em> it was barely a whisper, but if anything, I could feel that he was unsure and it frightened me. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Mean it, Paulo. Promise that things will not be weird between us.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Stop worrying Lester. I meant it.” </em>he gently patted a hand on my cheek. <em>“I promise.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paulo kept his promise and let the succeeding days flow as usual. Neither of us brought the incident up, nor did it happen again. I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope to kiss him once more because if any, I had already spent countless, restless nights at the thought of it. But perhaps, it wasn’t time. I wasn’t ready to have my heart broken at that point, let alone be ready to lose a friend over an infatuation that clearly should go away soon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three years went by and it was the eve of my nineteenth birthday when we went to our old tree. It was a weekend and I spent the day at our hut, waiting for Paulo to drop by and greet me at least but I didn’t hear a word from him, not even after dinner. I almost sulked myself to sleep when he came by so late at night, pounding at our frail, stubble of a door. Tatang huffed and immediately sent us away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“You’ve been waiting for him all day, weren’t you? Go now and be careful. Paulo, you may be the Governor’s son but you better bring my boy home in one piece.” </em>Tatang warned humorlessly and I giggled when Paulo found himself dumbfounded all of a sudden by the false threat. A tint of deep pink washed over his face and I felt guilty. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Tatang, don’t scare him like that! He’s my only friend.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paulo cut in surprisingly. <em>“Don’t worry Tatang, you know I take good care of Lester. We won’t be long.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paulo drove us to our old tree. He just obtained his driving license a couple of days prior and had been practicing with his new car back and forth to the university which we attended. He was a pretty cautious driver so I knew I didn’t have to worry much. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We leaned our backs against the sturdy trunk and stared at the moon glade for a while. It was huge and it gleamed a mesmerizing shade of Ivory, floating just above the undisturbed river. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I got you something,”</em> Paulo said softly and it got me confused since I was sure as hell that I did not see any item inside his car that nearly looked like a birthday present. He was a bad liar, so I could immediately tell whether he was trying to hide something from me. But there was nothing I found suspicious enough, which was why I was caught the least bit unprepared when he stepped closer to me. It was too close in fact, that it felt like that one night from three years ago, when we shared our first kiss. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took another step, and instinctively, I took a step back, completely forgetting that I was already leaning against the tree. He pressed both of his hands against the tree trunk behind me, so I was caged in between his arms. Frankly, I could easily flee away, but there was no reason for me to, not when I had been waiting for a chance like this again for far too long. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Happy birthday,”</em> I heard Paulo say softly before I closed my eyes and waited a bit until I felt that familiar pair of moist lips tenderly touching mine. It lingered for a moment, testing the waters, before we both parted our lips and let our tongues meet. His hand rested on my cheek, fleetingly, before his fingers ghosted along my jaw, my neck and I couldn’t hold the moans back inside my throat when his hand slithered along my clothed chest, like he longed to caress my skin under the offending material of my clothes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We pulled back reluctantly so we could catch some air. He removed his hand from the dip of my waist before reaching out for my hand and meshing our fingers together. The warmth felt good and affectionate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Happy birthday indeed.”</em> I breathed, and he smiled back. It must have been that smile that stirred enough courage in me and without a moment’s hesitation nor regrets, I confessed.<em> “I love you, Paulo.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Again, he smiled, his eyes curving into beautiful half-moons. I waited for his answer, but he remained quiet before he struggled to fish something out of the pocket of his jeans. My eyes followed his hand, and there was a bit of sparkle as soon as a part of the item peeked through the hem. When he took it out completely, it glimmered in the moonlight.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabbed my hand and placed the object on my palm. It was a vintage, chained pocket watch. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“That’s my second present. I got it from a vintage shop down the city this afternoon. I saved up for that. Do you like it?” </em>he asked hesitantly.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I untied the chain and clicked the lock open. It was indeed lovely and elegant, definitely not something I could afford. I nodded and smiled sincerely at him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I like it a lot. I didn’t know you noticed how I’ve never owned a watch. Thank you, really.” </em>I said, immediately hooking the chain into my belt hoops and thumbing the intricate design under my fingertips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Well, yeah. I’m glad you liked it. It also has a compartment at the back so you can place a coin or a ring inside. And that nub over there, you can press it down and the time stops.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I pressed the nub to which he pointed and instantly, the hands of the clock stopped moving. I nodded in awe and appreciation. <em>“I see. It surely is a unique birthday present. But, why this? I mean, you could’ve opted for something cheaper. You know I wouldn’t even mind not getting anything. Why did you get me this?”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Well, I thought it has pretty cool mechanisms. And, you know, how you can stop the time. Like, how the time stops when, like, we’re together? You, you know what I mean.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was the first time I heard Paulo falter in his words. He had always been bold and resolute and only I could see this vulnerable side of him. That part of him which I wanted to keep safe. I squeezed his hand lovingly.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I appreciate it. Thank you. I love you a lot.” </em>There was a feeling of pride and joy in me that wanted to jump and celebrate. I couldn’t believe how easily those words spilled out of my mouth tonight.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paulo squeezed my hand back. <em>“And you’re all I’ll ever need.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We sat on the grass and stayed silent for a long time, gazing at the moon glade on the edge of the river. The calm was comforting, and while it may be unspoken, something told me that he felt for me as well.  I could tell from the way he held my hand; let alone the way he fondly kissed my lips. But was I wrong to want more? I had wanted to hear him say he loved me as well, but I was too frightened to even ask.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I brushed my thumb once again on the surface of the pocket watch, as though the answer was there somewhere. But I heard nothing throughout the night. I gently slid the watch inside my pocket and we went home. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few months after we graduated from the university, my Tatang passed away. I had never felt more broken, because my Nanang died when I was two and barely had memories of her. Paulo was the only one I had left. He never deserted me during those days and weeks when even the mere thought of getting up from bed caused me pain. He came to visit me every day, brought me washed clothes, warm meals, sung me to sleep. He would want to give me a bath which I would decline. Sometimes he would stay the night and ensure I had rested well since at nights, I couldn’t sleep. I lost some weight because I was unable to eat. Whether I had become nothing else than a burden, he never said anything about it. He stayed until I felt a little better. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And even then, he never told me he loved me, and I felt insecure and troubled. Perhaps, I was not enough? He would soon run for politics just like his father, would become distinguished and powerful just like him, while I would always be this penniless boy from the fields, a speck of dust in the heels of his shoe. Perhaps he thought about this but he was too nice to break it to me.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Perhaps it was about time that I had to do something for him, something about my life. I had been immensely dependent on Paulo through all these years and I needed to move forward, in leaps and bounds. I must prove to Paulo that I was worthy of his affection. It was for the best. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I pretended to fall asleep that night and the moment I heard Paulo closed our door and the engine of his car roared away, I got up quietly and started packing my things. I took everything I could inside my old, decrepit backpack, including my jar filled with coins and a few hundred bills. I left for the city past midnight with what little savings I had and I cried and cried inside the bus. I knew I would crumble down and would never be able to leave had I said goodbye to him. So, I didn’t, and would let him discover it for himself the next morning when he comes visiting me in our hut. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would look for me, that was what I had hoped. He would look for me and he would cry, he would feel sad because I was no longer there and no one would know where I had gone to. And he would be mad. The thought of him getting mad at me destroyed my resolve. <em>I’m sorry, Paulo</em>. I whispered to the wind, praying it could reach him somehow. It was for the best. Someday, I would come back for him and I would be worthy to ask for his love. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first few weeks and months in the city had been difficult. I worked hard day and night, even when that meant sleeping on the streets at times. Fast food chains started flourishing in the urban areas as well as some few high-rise establishments and for a flat-broke soul such as myself that lived in the fields all his life, adaptation had been a grueling task. But Paulo was in my mind all the time, and he became my driving force to persevere. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was able to seek good employment at a small diner and the owner had been generous enough to let me stay-in until I could save enough and pay the rent. I stayed in that place for two years until I landed a job as a part server/part cashier at a restaurant in one of the biggest malls within the metro. My excellent work ethics and wit proved to be rewarding when I had my first job promotion the following year, and even more promotions for each succeeding year. I left the business as an Operations Manager after five fruitful years in order to open my very own bistro. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>My first branch was humble, but we offered great food and excellent service. I helped in serving the customers and became a hands-on owner as frequently as I could until we gathered regular customers; one of which was a columnist for a newspaper that had our bistro featured with an impressive review. Soon enough, we were the talk of the town and people had been crowding every day, catching the attention of more papers and magazines. It wasn’t long before I was making a name for myself in the neighboring cities as well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Through all my achievements, I had kept with me the pocket watch that Paulo gave me on my nineteenth birthday. I already had the batteries replaced last year and it was working well again. I kept it neat and polished and looking just as exactly as it had when I received it. He may be miles away from me, but this token had always served as his best memory and my good luck charm. This had saved me countless times when I felt like yielding to defeat and times of miseries. If not for him and his affection being my prime goal, none of these would have been possible. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took me a full year for my business to completely thrive and along with it was the construction of three more branches across the adjoining cities. Now at 27 years old, I was able to build a house of modest size and a car that I really liked. I felt confident, capable, and worthy. That was when I decided it was time to pay Paulo a visit and finally ask for his love. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, I was on the train bound to our hometown, just a few more hours away from seeing him again and I couldn’t be more thrilled. It had been eight long years and I longed for him terribly, satisfying myself by purchasing papers and magazines that had his name and photos on them. He recently won the Vice Mayoral position in our hometown and my heart was swelling with pride. He always had great leadership under his sleeves and it would only be appropriate to get himself a partner that is comparably deserving. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the train dropped us off at the station, I smelled the air. It was still fresh and crisp as I had remembered. There were a few unfamiliar establishments in the area but not quite as cramped and as busy as the city where I came from. There were still a lot of trees and the sky was still a deep cobalt blue. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I checked into a nearby hostel for three days and went looking straight for our old tree as soon as I finished unpacking my stuff. Our tree wasn’t that far from the hostel, probably took me a good thirty minutes by foot. I felt my cheeks blush when I found the tree, our safe place, our oasis. It seemed to have grown sturdier, grown more branches and the bark had deepened into a rich, chocolate brown. But one thing sure was missing, Paulo. He’s not here. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The weather was balmier today, but it no longer bothered me as soon as I lazed under the shade of our old tree. Just like the old times, where Paulo would sit across me with a guitar on his hand, tapping his hands and crafting music. I couldn’t wait to sit beside him here and maybe kiss him again under the moon glade. I stayed there for a few more hours and didn’t realize I fell into a nap. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When I stirred awake, the next thing I visited was our old High School. It had been renovated, made to look new and more contemporary. I no longer recognized the old courtyard where Tatang would rest after sweeping all day. Even the cafeteria looked new. I guessed they already threw the bad table away from where I used to spend lunch breaks alone. The only one I recognized was the security guard, save for a head filled with graying hairs already but he still looked the same nice Kuya as before. But one thing sure was missing, Paulo. He’s not here. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I left the school and thought of visiting our old hut. It was sentimental, walking along the familiar streets. I had met some old faces along the way and heard them say <em>“Wow, Lester had grown to be a fine young man.” </em>and <em>“Is that Lester already? I’ve seen him once in the papers. He must be really rich now!”. </em>I smiled at them sincerely anyway. When I reached our lot, my shoulders dropped because I couldn’t find our hut anymore. The cornfield, as well, was no longer there. Instead, only a massive vacant lot and a barbed fence that surrounded the area. It was bound to happen anyway, but it still left a pang in my chest.  I began to wonder if I could perhaps purchase the lot from the owner. But that would be the matter for another day. For now, I needed to see Paulo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I went to his house and now it almost looked like a small castle, with taller walls and huge steel gates. I pressed the doorbell and while waiting outside, I was troubled. What would I tell Paulo? What would he tell me? What would he think? Was he still mad at me for leaving? I was in that depth of thought when a house-help opened the gate. She was a new face, and I felt suddenly uneasy by the way she stared at me with curiosity. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Good afternoon, Ma’am. Is Paulo Nase at home? Please tell him Stellvester Ajero is here. I’m a good friend of his.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her brows furrowed in the middle and I was sure as hell she was assessing whether I was some sort of bad person with that dubious once-over that she pulled. She casually said <em>“They went to church”</em> before almost slamming the steel gate in front of my face. But I no longer cared, because Paulo, he’s not here. I ran off without saying thank you, and I was certain she didn’t mind.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I ran the distance to the church the fastest that I could. My heart, it was going to burst and my throat had never felt this parched by the way I breathed heavily with every swift stride of my feet. Finally, finally, after almost a decade, I can finally see Paulo again. I can finally ask him for his love, now that I am a worthy man. I could be with him again, free to hold his hand, free to kiss his hair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I made it to the old church after a few minutes of running and brisk walking, moving in through the entrance on the side of the old infrastructure. I quietly found myself a seat, almost tiptoeing to avoid creating any noise since there was an ongoing mass. I glanced at my pocket watch; it was <em>twenty-five minute</em>s past five in the afternoon already.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I turned around eagerly, looking for Paulo but the church was too big and I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch him easily through the crowd. When my eyes darted in front, to the altar, that was the only time it dawned on me that there was a woman standing in a white princess gown. A wedding ceremony. You could immediately tell that she came from a well-to-do family and I wondered if I used to know her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the priest endearingly announced that the newly-wed couple may seal their first kiss, they happily turned to their guests. The man wore a crisp white tux with black trimmings and he looked quite elegant. He was tall and lean and he slowly turned around and smiled to everyone. His eyes curved into the usual half-moons, and the skin on his left cheek caved into an adorable dimple. He looked the same, or he became even more attractive in his suit. The groom, the love of my life, my moon glade, it was Paulo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He faced his bride and lifted her veil; I squeezed my eyes closed so I could not see him kiss anyone else aside from me. I clenched my fists tightly until they bled as I watched them march down the aisle, holding each other’s hands, smiling affectionately as petals were showered along the way. My breathing stopped when Paulo’s gaze met mine and witnessed how his smile melted away. Standing from my seat, I wiped a tear from my eye and quietly walked away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I ran outside. I ran as fast as I could, as far as my feet could take me away from the church. I couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to wait for me, and tell me he loves me back. I was supposed to hold his hand and kiss his hair and ask him to marry me. I willed my feet to run faster, if I had gone slow, I would break. I had nothing left. I could not lose myself. So, I kept running until I reached our old tree. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I sat against the tree and cried, searching for whatever solace it could offer me just this moment. This tree had witnessed my happier days. I needed that now. <em>Tatang</em>, <em>was I wrong? Was I wrong to want more? Was I wrong to have waited? Was I wrong to have believed he would wait? Tatang, why does it hurt so bad?</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I stayed under the tree until the sun was no longer there. I waited until there was moon glade crying in the river. What was I to do now? I threw a small rock into the river and the moon glade broke into a million white lights. I heard footsteps behind me, shoes digging into the damp soil. He sat next to me and threw another rock into the river as well. I felt a finger brushing against the corner of my eye, and he wiped my tear away.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“It had been so long,” </em>he said.<em> “You never even told me goodbye. I got mad at you; you know? But I was more sad than angry. Because I thought you would always be honest with me.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I faced him. Finally, I could see him, feel him this close again, like how we used to be. He was still wearing the white and black tux he wore at the church today. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I had to leave, so I could learn to stand on my feet. You’ve done so much for me and I needed to be my own person. So that when I come back for you again, I am already better and worthy to ask for your love, Paulo.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook his head and pursed his lips with eyes closed. He smiled, but there was only pain in it. When he looked at me again, his eyes were red and defeated. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Didn’t I tell you before? You’re all I’ll ever need. You didn’t need to ask for my love. You had my heart since I was thirteen, Lester.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I gazed at him in confusion, and eventually regret. <em>“Why didn’t you tell me?”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook his head again and took a sharp breath. <em>“Do you still keep the pocket watch I gave you on your birthday?”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I nodded and unclipped the chain from my belt hoops and handed the pocket watch to him. He thumbed the intricate design and it shone in the light. It looked exactly as it did the last time Paulo bought it from the vintage shop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Do you remember I told you this had a small compartment at the back?”</em> he asked, unlatching a small nub at the back and the compartment opened effortlessly. He took a small piece of paper inside and rolled it out. The paper looked old, yellowish, probably from age. He handed it over to me. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Lester, you are my moon, my sun, and my star. My first, and I pray would be the last. You are my lifetime. I love you deeply.” - Paulo</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I had always loved you, but you left me. You never contacted me, not even once. I waited for a letter or a phone call. I waited for years. Then I was seeing you in the papers and knew you were doing well. I thought you didn’t want me anymore so I moved on. I met Priscilla, she’s beautiful too, like you.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I guess, I was too late then.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“You are. I’m sorry Lester.”</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And when I thought I had already cried hard enough, I hadn’t. I hugged my knees close to my chest and cried again, as Paulo kissed my hair and whispered “<em>goodbye</em>” as he walked away. I hadn’t realized that all these years, I had existed in a perfect world I created inside my head; a world where he waited and told me he loved me and we would be together. Now, I lost him. I lost everything. Because I was too late. So, so late. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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